"Stop here David…" Emma says as they pull up in front of their house, still covered in police tape and everything was dark. Never had Emma thought her house looked so empty and even a little scary. Her house no longer felt like a home. The swing Neal had installed in the oak tree swung slowly in the breeze, like a pendulum. Emma's heart races, it was if the swing was counting down the seconds that Killian had left to live.

"What file does he want?" Regina asks from the back seat. Ever since they picked her up, Regina had been talking non-stop, but this time, only to be caught up with the situation. She did not bring her notepad out of respect for Emma and Killian's situation.

"Something I stored a long time ago," Emma says, opening the door of her car.

"But the house was completely ransacked," Mary Margret says, climbing out of the back seat. "How was he not able to find it?"

"Because…I hid it in a certain place that requires two people to get to it," Emma explains.

The two duck under the police tape and walk towards the empty house in a brisk fashion as time was of the essence. Emma pushes the still ajar front door open and steps into the mess.

Mary Margret gasps at the scene around, having only heard what had happened to her friend's house.

"He did not hold back did he?" she says quietly.

"No," Emma says before climbing the stairs, Mary Margret following behind her.

Emma makes her way down the hall to her bedroom. She flicks the light on and kicks the debris from the man's raid away from her bed.

"Give me a hand," Emma says. She puts her hands on the edge of her bed. Mary Margret joins her and they push the bed across the floor to the window.

Mary Margret watches as Emma knocks on the wooden floorboards that were under her bed. One sounds different from the others. Emma pries open the loose end of the floorboard to reveal a small space underneath, in the floor. It was bigger than it seemed as Mary Margret can see an assortment of objects beneath it. Papers, photos and other small objects. It was like a child's hiding place to store treasures, only Emma was using it to store memories… or rather hide them.

"What is all this stuff?" Mary Margret whispers.

"Stuff that I want to forget," Emma answers as she begins pulling up a narrow box filled with files. "Anything that reminds me of Boston or my foster homes or anything else that made my life depressing."

Emma begins going through the box she pulled out. Mary Margret peers through the compartment. She sees a few small things, like a necklace with a swan on it, a small knitted blanket with her name sewn on, some small toys, photo albums, even a camcorder. Clearly, there was a lot that Emma wanted to forget, she buried her past as much as possible, something that worried Mary Margret about, it was never healthy to do things like that, she knew from experience.

The box that Emma was going through was labeled Work. It was a series of files, stuffed to the brim with paperwork. Emma knew that when she came to Storybrooke, she would hide these documents, mostly because there was a lot of information, too much evidence to simply throw away after they moved here. She'd never thought she'd have to go back into them again until this guy threatened Killian's life for one of them.

She finally finds Osmond, followed by Walsh. She shudders slightly thinking about Walsh… a man who nearly destroyed her life. But what did this guy want with it? Walsh was in prison, that was for sure and had been for many years, so why was this file so important to this guy? Enough to kidnap Killian for it. She grasps the folder tightly in her hands before standing up.

"Let's go," Emma says, unaware that a crucial piece of evidence had fallen out of the folder and onto the floor.

Mary Margret was opening her mouth to speak; her mind reeling with questions about the whole situation, but seeing the look in Emma's eyes and the desperation on her face, she knew explanations could wait.

Emma hurries back down the stairs, not even bothering to put things back since their house was already a huge mess, Mary Margret in her wake.

They make it back to the car.

"Got it," Emma says. "Let's go to Dark Street."

David nods and start's Emma's car up. They pull away from the house and go down Main Street.

"I've only been down here a couple of times," David explains. "Not many people live out this far."

"If you get lost, I can help," Regina adds. "I used to bike out here when I was little."

"Wouldn't your mom be worried?" Mary Margret asks.

"She was always too busy to care," Regina shrugs. "I mostly came out here for a good scare because there were rumors at the time that it was haunted."

"Are you serious?" David says, making a left turn.

"I was nine, let it go, anyways the houses out here are very far apart and very run down, so it looked pretty spooky. That's probably how the rumors started. Besides that, they made great hiding places and fun locations to dare each other to go into."

"Did you dare your friends a lot to go into the houses?" Mary Margret asks.

Regina goes quiet and even in the darkness, the teacher can see that she's turned red. "I didn't have a lot of friends when I was young. I mostly just came out here to get out of the house."

Emma doesn't say anything. She wasn't totally surprised, but she obviously didn't say so. Regina took some getting used to, she could be annoying, spoiled and sometimes just mean, but they were friends now and that's what was important.

David makes another turn. "We're on Dark Street," he announces.

The street definitely lived up to its name. David had to turn on the high beams as there were no street lights and the road had many bumps in it. True to what Regina had said, the houses were old and run down, most of them were boarded or being overcome by vegetation. Emma swallows hard, worrying about Killian and their situation in general. She doesn't know what this guy is capable of, or what he might do. She just hopes they can save Killian and get out before this guy does any more damage.

"I think this is it…" David says, pulling the bug to a stop. The group can see a rusty mailbox, overtaken by a bunch of vines, but still, there is a distinct outline of the number 64. There was a long, crumbling brick driveway that led to a very large house, which in a moonlight, looked like a large, menacing shadow. The house looked like it was from a Victorian era, with a large pointed roof and large windows that had been shattered. Despite its run-down appearance, the house looked like it had been lived in recently; the gravel and bricks on the driveway had been disturbed and some of the overgrown weeds had been flattened by something rather large.

The entire group held their breath as they stared at the large house as if it were watching them.

"Of course…" Emma mutters under her breath. "It had to be a big, creepy house in the middle of nowhere."